Transpor 


The  Place  of  Industry 
in  Modern  Life 


The  Founder’s  Day  Address 
at  the 

University  of  Virginia 
April  13,  1915 


By 

FAIRFAX  HARRISON 

President,  Southern  Railway  Company 


r Gen. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/placeofindustryi00harr_1 


16  1932 


THE  PLACE  OF  INDUSTRY  IN  MODERN  LIFE. 

At  the  Paris  Exposition  of  1855  there  were  honourably  inscribed  on 
the  buildings  the  names  of  men  who  had  distinguished  themselves  not 
only  in  science  but  in  industry.  It  was  deemed  a fit  acknowledgment 
of  the  modern  world  to  the  place  which  industry  has  taken  in  it.  There 
arose,  however,  a powerful  voice  of  protest,  that  of  Ernest  Renan.  “The 
mistake  lies,”  he  said,  “not  in  proclaiming  industry  to  be  excellent  and 
useful,  but  in  exalting  it  beyond  measure  and  in  attaching  too  much 
importance  to  perfecting  its  processes.  * * * The  useful  does  not 

ennoble:  that  only  ennobles  which  presupposes  in  man  intellectual  or 
moral  worth.  Virtue,  genius,  science  when  it  is  disinterested,  and  its 
only  object  is  to  satisfy  the  desire  which  leads  man  to  penetrate  the 
enigmas  of  the  universe,  military  valour,  holiness,  all  those  things  which 
correspond  with  the  moral,  intellectual  or  aesthetic  needs  of  man,  all  these 
can  ennoble.  * * * But  what  is  merely  useful  will  never  ennoble. 

* * * Industry  renders  immense  services  to  society  but  they  are  serv- 

ices which  after  all  are  repaid  in  money.  To  every  one  his  own  reward: 
to  the  man  whose  usefulness  is  of  the  earth  earthy,  wealth,  happiness 
in  the  earthly  meaning  of  the  word,  all  earthly  blessings;  to  genius,  to 
virtue,  to  glory — nobleness.” 

This  is  an  eloquent  echo  of  the  judgment  upon  industry  which  had 
been  entertained  by  the  Greeks,  which  has  persisted  through  the  ages, 
which  found  expression  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  sneer  at  England  as 
a “nation  of  shop-keepers,”  which  we  here  in  Virginia  have  exemplified 
in  the  opinion  surviving  even  to  this  generation  in  rare  back-waters  of 
inheritance  that  it  “ill  becomes  a gentleman  to  engage  in  trade.”  With 
the  Greeks,  as  with  our  immediate  forbears,  many  of  the  manifestations 
of  industry  wore  a purely  servile  guise  and  were  contemned  as  such,  but 
modern  civilization  has  the  added  burden  of  medieval  feudalism  per- 
sisting in  its  prejudices.  When  the  sole  discipline  of  civilization  was 
direct  force  the  highest  achievement  of  a man  of  generous  birth  was  in 
feats  of  arms,  or  in  that  mimic  of  warfare,  the  chace,  and  in  such  a 
society  a contempt  for  the  slow  and  painful  production  of  the  necessaries 


2 


of  civilization  was  a test  of  breeding.  It  is  only  in  the  present  genera- 
tion that  we  have  seen  a ruling  class  holding  to  the  old  traditions  and  yet 
sufficiently  enlightened  to  appreciate  that  defensible  political  power  must 
be  built  on  a foundation  of  productive  efficiency  even  if  it  is  to  be  de- 
fended by  destructive  energy.  I refer  to  modem  Germany.  In  his  soul 
despising  the  tradesman  and  the  manufacturer,  the  junker  has  still  had 
the  wisdom  to  conceal  his  prejudice  in  order  to  promote  his  own  oppor- 
tunity for  world-power  on  the  shoulders  of  a wealth-producing  popula- 
tion. In  very  truth  the  might  of  modern  Germany,  which  in  demonstra- 
tion has  made  the  whole  world  gasp  when  once  its  ruling  class  reverted 
to  force,  rests  like  the  untried  but  well  recognized  might  of  the  United 
States  of  today,  not  upon  a sovereignty  of  political  acumen,  not  upon  the 
wisdom  of  its  intellectuals — make  as  they  may  their  Aufruf  an  die  Kul- 
turwelt — not  upon  the  play  of  artists  upon  the  human  soul,  not  even 
upon  the  genius  of  nationality,  but  upon  the  persistent  unwearied  accu- 
mulations of  its  organized  artisans  who  are  ever  adding  to  the  human 
store,  in  the  field,  in  the  mine,  in  the  shop,  or  wherever  else  Industry- 
flies  its  winding  black  flag. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  case  of  Germany,  the  United  States, 
given  over  as  it  is  to  industrialism,  is  not  consciously  engaged  in 
production  merely  for  the  sake  of  building  power,  nor  even  merely 
for  the  sake  of  money.  We  are  a people  steeped  in  idealism, 
crude  as  yet  in  the  expression  of  it  perhaps,  with  a strong  appetite  for 
emotional  sensation  maybe,  but  surely  one  who  recognizes  the  motive 
force  of  some  of  our  most  recent  acts  of  foreign  policy  must  acknowl- 
edge that  it  was  the  most  intense  idealism  which  stirred  the  American 
people  to  go  to  war  with  Spain  to  “free”  Cuba  and  thereby  to  assume 
heavy,  new  and  undesired  responsibilities ; which  prescribed  a national 
standard  of  dealing  with  the  still  politically  inept  peoples  of  the 
Philippines  as  our  ancestors  demanded  that  the  mother  country  should 
deal  with  the  colonists  of  her  own  blood  and  political  traditions;  which 
treats  with  the  partizan  bandits  of  Mexico  as  though  they  were  leaders 
of  a free  and  self-governing  people,  These  are  policies  which  amaze 


3 


the  practical  statesmen  of  the  elder  world,  and  yet  those  statesmen 
would  fain  persuade  themselves  that  our  industrialism  has  made  of  us 
hierophants  of  a sordid  cult  of  the  almighty  dollar.  Nor  do  we  confine 
our  idealism  to  foreign  relations.  If  we  were  in  fact  merely  venal  in  our 
industrialism  we  would  doubtless  shape  our  internal  political  policy  to  the 
practical  and  successful  support  of  industry  and  not  be  adding  year  after 
year  to  the  cost  of  production  by  legislation  intended  to  promote  the 
interest  of  the  employee  at  the  expense  of  the  employer,  but  which  in 
fact,  except  in  the  case  of  a single  important  industry,  results  usually  in 
imposing  upon  the  domestic  consumer  the  added  cost  of  our  social  serv- 
ice. If  the  consumer  is  not  himself  an  employee  he  must  be  an  idealist 
to  assume  without  protest  the  additional  cost  of  living  which  is  involved 
in  paying  more  for  what  one  needs  that  it  would  cost  if  one  was  not  of 
the  increasing  tribe  of  Abou  ben  Adhem.  We  are,  indeed,  a nation  of 
idealists  in  national  policy,  internal  as  well  as  external. 

Claiming,  then,  these  expressions  of  our  political  policy  as  charac- 
teristic of  our  genius  as  a people,  it  is  not  too  much  to  ask  those  who 
have  not  had  contact  with  the  actual  leaders  of  American  industry,  nor 
first-hand  appreciation  of  their  motives  and  their  problems,  to  accept 
as  a fact  that  many  of  those  men  have  in  aspiration  spiritual  as  well  as 
sordid  rewards  and  that  their  energy  finds  what  is  perhaps  its  most 
positive  and  satisfying  expression  in  attaining  that  ideal  of  Industry 
which  has  ever  been  one  of  the  chief  ends  of  civilization,  to  wit:  the  con- 
quest of  Nature,  bending  her  neck  to  the  uses  of  man.  In  such  a place 
as  this  in  which  I now  stand  it  may  fortify  this  assertion  that  I am  able 
to  say  that  I have  seldom  associated  with  an  American  of  the  true  breed 
engaged  in  industry  who  has  not  been  capable  of  thrilling  to  the  prophecy 
of  his  own  experience  in  the  great  chorus  in  the  Antigone,  which  limns 
a deathless  picture  of  the  daring  and  moral  victory  of  man  in  his  con- 
test with  Nature. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  rehearse  to  a generation  which  has  just  wit- 
nessed the  extension  of  the  human  voice  across  a continent  the  things 
which  American  industry  has  conceived  and  accomplished  for  civiliza- 


4 


tion.  The  future  archeologist,  coming  upon  the  foundations  of  long 
extinct  by-product  plants  and  once  noisy  railway  terminals  which  had  been 
exterminated  by  some  mysterious  and  forgotten  economic  catastrophe, 
may  remark,  as  Darwin  did  of  the  geological  traces  of  the  animal 
monsters  which  once  swarmed  in  America,  that,  if  Buffon  had  known 
of  the  lost  Pachydermata  of  this  continent,  he  might  have  said  with  a 
greater  semblance  of  truth  that  the  creative  force  of  America  had  lost 
its  power  rather  than  that  it  had  never  possessed  great  vigor. 

Industry  is,  then,  not  necessarily  mere  money  grubbing.  With  all  its 
stimulus  to  selfishness  and  for  all  that  it  has  grown  out  of  that  system  of 
individualism  which  our  ancestors  lauded  and  some  among  us  are  now  be- 
ginning to  apologize  for,  industry  is  daily  becoming  more  responsive  to 
those  moral  and  intellectual  needs  of  man  which  Renan  admits  are  enno- 
bling. Men  who  conduct  the  destinies  of  great  and  conspicuous  industries, 
which  affect  the  public  interest  immediately,  are  no  longer  cynical  of 
their  responsibilities.  More  and  more  they  recognize  that  they  are  sub- 
ject to  the  control  of  public  opinion  almost  as  much  as  if  they  held 
public  political  office : that  they  must  account  for  their  stewardship  not 
merely  in  the  private  chamber  of  a Board  of  Directors,  but  before  the 
bar  of  the  world.  No  private  interest  can  today  long  sustain  such  men 
in  their  positions  of  power  if  once  public  opinion  shall  discover  and  pro- 
claim that  they  lack  character;  and  they  know  it.  While  the  awakened 
public  consciousness  of  a general  interest  in  the  conduct  of  our  most 
important  industries,  and  the  measures  of  prohibition  and  police  in  which 
that  public  consciousness  has  found  expression,  have  undoubtedly  stim- 
ulated the  changes  which  have  taken  place  in  the  attitude  of  industry 
itself,  it  is  fair  to  recognize  that  industrial  leaders  have  themselves  felt 
the  stirring  of  the  times  and  in  notable  instances  have  made  contribu- 
tions to  the  solution  of  the  problems  which  still  overshadow  all  industry, 
namely:  those  of  the  relations  of  labour  and  capital,  and  of  the  private 
ownership  of  public  utilities.  Such  things  have  been  done  as  to  justify 
for  those  men  the  claim  of  statesmanship.  In  making  this  claim  one  need 
not  be  ashamed  to  admit  that  Industry  has  not  yet  submitted  to  all  the 


5 


mollifying  influences  of  the  professional  social  democrats.  It  has  frankly 
and  openly  combatted,  as  inimical  to  efficiency,  the  growth  of  an  opinion 
that  all  power  except  political  power  is  a menace.  This  opinion  is  the 
child  of  fat  years  of  plenty  and  prosperity.  Goethe  knew  the  sentiment 
which  is  back  of  it  and  photographed  it  subtly  in  a memorable  passage  of 
the  Dictung  und  Warheit.  “In  peace,”  he  says,  “man’s  love  of  freedom 
becomes  more  and  more  prominent,  and  the  more  free  one  is  the  more 
free  one  wishes  to  be.  We  will  not  tolerate  anything  over  us.  We  will 
not  be  restrained.  No  one  shall  be  restrained.  This  tender,  nay  morbid, 
feeling  gives  rise  to  a certain  moral  feud  which  with  laudable  beginnings 
leads  to  inevitably  unfortunate  results,  though  at  its  best  it  appears  in 
noble  souls  under  the  form  of  justice.” 

The  modern  world,  realizing  more  personal  freedom  than  Goethe  ever 
dreamed  of,  has  undoubtedly  pushed  this  sentiment  beyond  the  demand 
of  justice,  for,  as  another  profound  and  stimulating  German  philosopher 
of  our  own  generation  has  pointed  out,  the  inclination  now  is  not  only  to 
take  up  responsibility  for  the  weaker,  which  is  undeniably  right  and 
noble,  but  to  place  ourselves  as  far  as  possible  in  their  position  and  to 
arrange  the  whole  of  life  in  their  interest.  “It  seems  to  be  now  believed,” 
says  Eucken,  “that  the  weak  are  good  and  the  strong  bad,  and  that  it  is 
the  duty  of  the  latter  to  give  way  to  the  former  the  moment  there  is  a 
conflict  of  interests.  This  shows  itself  in  a public  tendency  to  take  sides 
with  the  child  against  the  parent,  with  the  pupil  against  the  teacher,  and 
in  general  with  those  in  subordination  against  those  in  authority,  as  if  all 
order  and  discipline  were  a mere  demonstration  of  selfishness  and 
brutality.” 

It  must  be  admitted  that  the  recent  history  of  industry  has  presented 
some  sharp  contrasts  to  the  ideal  of  those  who  entertain  this  sentiment. 
After  a long  generation  of  surcease  from  serious  war  men  have  found 
in  industry  opportunities  to  satisfy  some  of  the  more  primeval  appetites, 
conspicuously  that  implanted  in  the  breast  of  every  virile  man — the  love 
of  conflict  and  of  power  won  by  conquest. 

Lacking  heroes  of  military  fame,  we  have  heard  men  of  action- 


6 


who  bear  scars  of  achievement,  acclaimed  by  the  sonorous  designation  of 
“Captain  of  Industry,”  or,  somewhat  later  in  the  suggestion  of  the 
statesman  who  would  shape  to  his  principles  a stiff-necked  and  untoward 
generation,  by  a more  orotund  title,  “Master  of  Competitive  Supremacy.” 
We  have  seen  triumphant  Democracy  in  fierce  grapple  with  such  men. 
We  have  heard  their  activities  denounced  as  fraught  with  political  and 
social  evil,  but,  even  when,  as  the  result  of  changed  standards  of  political 
philosophy,  they  have  been  convicted  of  statutory  crimes  against  the 
common  weal,  all  men  knew  that  they  were  actuated  by  no  merely  vulgar 
greed  but  by  love  of  work  and  of  power,  by  a Berserker  lust  for  fight, 
and  that  they  usually  lived  their  lives  in  action  to  the  end,  without  sparing 
themselves  to  indulge  in  rest  and  sordid  ostentation.  Such  men,  though 
they  made  their  careers  in  industry,  seldom  knew  “happiness  in  the 
earthly  meaning  of  the  word” ; they  were  not  content  with  the  reward  of 
money  alone,  as  Renan  proposed,  but  took  it  and  used  it  as  the  badge  of 
their  achievement.  The  American  people  saw  this,  and  secretly  admiring 
their  Satanic  wickedness  have  uniformly  declined  to  submit  them  to  de- 
grading personal  punishments,  while,  with  that  resignation  human  nature 
always  has  in  the  curbing  of  the  haughty,  they  have  approved  the  slow 
and  certain  measures  of  the  law  which  painfully  and  in  travail  tear  down 
the  monuments  these  men  set  up  suddenly  in  fierce  victory.  It  is  never 
displeasing  to  the  average  man  to  chant  with  David : “How  are  the 
mighty  fallen !” 

The  sentiment  of  work  for  the  sake  of  work  and  the  achievements 
which  come  of  work  permeates  the  whole  polity  of  our  industrial  life : it  is 
happily  as  evident  in  the  less  conspicuous  records  of  the  superintendent 
and  the  resident  engineer  as  in  the  red  annals  of  the  trust  builder : indeed, 
those  modest  men  who  organize  and  administer  working  human  units, 
whose  experienced  skill  often  devises  the  ways,  if  not  the  means,  to  accom- 
plish the  tasks  of  industry,  are  the  true  captains  of  the  modern  world. 
They  are  loyal  soldiers  of  civilization  deserving  as  much  honour  as  ever 
was  won  upon  a tented  field,  and  yet,  in  the  organization  of  society  today, 
they  are  classed  loosely  with  the  politically  dangerous,  as  servants  of 


7 


incorporate  Industry.  Deprived  of  the  sympathy  which  society  gives  to 
those  under  their  command,  deprived  by  the  very  exactions  of  their  duties 
from  seeking  their  own  fortunes,  earning  many-fold  their  usually  slender 
salaries,  they  are  as  a class  as  honest  as  their  lives  are  simple,  ever  ready 
to  do  and  dare  without  conscious  stint,  attesting  daily  in  their  pride  of 
accomplishment  a mute  answer  to  Hamlet’s  question:  “Who  would  fardels 
bear?”,  and  realizing  honourably  in  their  response  to  the  calls  of  their 
superiors  Ruskin’s  fine  invocation  of  their  class : 

“To  obey  another  man,  to  labour  for  him,  yield  reverence  to 
him  and  to  his  place,  is  not  slavery.  It  is  often  the  best  kind  of 
liberty,  liberty  from  care.  The  man  who  says  to  one,  Go,  and  he 
goeth,  and  to  another,  Come,  and  he  cometh,  has  in  most  cases 
more  sense  of  restraint  and  difficulty  than  the  man  who  obeys  him. 
The  movements  of  the  one  are  hindered  by  the  burden  on  his  shoul- 
der, of  the  other  by  the  bridle  on  his  lips : there  is  no  way  by  which 
the  burden  may  be  lightened,  but  we  need  not  suffer  from  the  bridle 
if  we  do  not  champ  at  it.  To  yield  reverence  to  another,  to  hold 
ourselves  and  our  likes  at  his  disposal,  is  not  slavery:  often  it  is  the 
noblest  state  in  which  a man  can  live  in  this  world.” 

Let  this,  then,  be  the  answer  to  Ernest  Renan. 

Industry  in  the  sense  I have  used  the  word,  connoting  organized 
productive  labour,  is  one  of  the  enlarging  concepts  of  the  modern  world. 
It  is  so  new  a thing  that  it  finds  no  definition  in  Dr.  Johnson’s  dictionary. 
Mr.  Jefferson  had  in  his  old  age  a vision  of  it.  He  saw  more  that  it  was 
inevitable  than  in  his  opinion  desirable.  While  he  never  altogether  yielded 
his  darling  theory  that  the  United  States  should  in  its  own  interest  re- 
main a purely  agricultural  nation,  aloof  from  the  competitive  commerce 
of  the  world — that  tenet  which  had  drawn  upon  him  throughout  his 
career  the  hatred  and  recrimination  of  New  England — yet  in  1816  he 
confessed  that  experience  had  taught  him  that  domestic  manufactures 
were  necessary  to  happiness  and  comfort. 

The  fact  is  that  industrialism  began,  long  before  it  had  a name,  with 


8 


the  decay  of  direct  force  as  the  basis  of  social  discipline  and  the  substi- 
tution of  the  granting  or  refusal  of  work  as  the  main  preventive  and  co- 
ercive power  of  civilization.  This  was  an  extraordinary,  an  almost 
incomprehensible  change.  Well  may  Comte  exclaim  that  “considering 
the  natural  indolence  of  the  human  constitution,  it  could  hardly  have  been 
foreseen  that  the  prevailing  desire  of  the  majority  of  free  men  would 
be  for  permanent  work.” 

With  Comte’s  statement  of  the  phenomenon  we  may  accept  also  his 
explanation.  “Industrial  pursuit,”  he  says,  “is  suitable  to  the  intellectual 
mediocrity  of  the  vast  majority  of  the  race  which  can  best  deal  with 
clear,  concrete,  limited  questions  requiring  steady  but  easy  attention,  ad- 
mitting of  a direct  or  proximate  solution,  relating  to  the  practical  inter- 
ests of  civilized  life  and  bringing  after  them  a pretty  certain  reward  of 
ease  and  independence  in  return  for  sense  and  industry.” 

We  have  here,  then,  an  appreciation  that  industry  in  the  modern 
sense  was  not  a concept  of  statesmanship  but  arose  from  below,  and  this 
fact,  coupled  with  the  prejudice  of  the  cavalier  class  against  participation 
in  all  productive  labour  to  which  I have  referred,  may  serve  to  explain 
why  until  very  recently  industry,  having  become  the  great  force  of  the 
modern  world,  has  drawn  into  its  ranks  so  few  educated  men,  why 
college  training  has  so  seldom  been  deemed  a propaedeutic  for  industry. 
The  typical  successful  American  engaged  in  industry  has  been  the  self- 
made  man,  educated,  as  he  proudly  tells  you,  in  the  school  of  experience, 
and  the  majority  of  the  shining  exemplars  are  so  today.  All  honour 
is  due  them  and  is  paid  to  them  for  that  reason : but  their  example, 
leading  many  to  the  belief  that  education  is  not  necessary  for  business, 
had  an  undue  influence  upon  their  generation.  This  largely  accounts  for 
the  passing  of  the  roundly  educated  man  which  has  been  one  of  the  re- 
gretable  facts  of  recent  American  social  history,  like  that  of  our  van- 
ishing wild  life. 

Unless  one  is  prepared  to  claim  that  a college  education  is 
a handicap  in  industry : that  the  needed  equipment  for  dealing  with 
the  largest  social  and  economic  questions  of  the  day  is  a mere  blend  of 


9 


empiricism  and  native  common  sense,  then  the  time  has  certainly  come 
when  more  young  men  of  tradition  and  broad  education  are  needed  in 
industry,  to  be  preparing  to  take  the  leadership  in  the  next  generation, 
when  the  moral  responsibilities  of  such  leadership  are  certain  to  be 
greater  even  than  they  are  today. 

Happily  one  may  now  say  that  the  movement  for  the  con- 
servation of  educated  men  in  business  has  almost  become  a ten- 
dency. Already  one  sees  every  year  more  and  more  young  men 
of  the  class  to  which  I refer  seeking  a career  in  industry.  It  began 
with  the  demand  for  men  trained  in  Science.  The  editor  of  the  English 
periodical  Nature  truly  said  the  other  day  that  “Science  is  the 
dynamic  and  creative  force  in  industry,  and  it  is  only  through  scientific 
discovery  that  industry  can  rapidly  advance.”  The  man  engaged  in 
industry  who  could  underrate  his  debt  to  science  would,  like  Sydney 
Smith’s  friend,  “speak  disrespectfully  of  the  Equator.”  Especially  do  I 
lay  the  tribute  of  my  profound  admiration  and  grateful  respect  at  the  feet 
of  him  who  makes  a career  in  the  domain  of  pure  science.  Even  though 
from  the  very  nature  of  his  work — those  tranquil  but  arduous  pursuits 
for  which  Mr.  Jefferson  avowed  Nature  intended  him — the  scientist  can 
not  often  be  one  of  an  active  industrial  staff  which  must  struggle  and 
compete  in  the  hurly  burly,  yet  the  actual  and  potential  value  of  the 
scientist’s  contribution  to  industry  is  greater  than  has  ever  yet  been  gen- 
erally acknowledged  in  America.  As  to  what  this  contribution  is,  it  will 
suffice  to  cite  the  justly  proud  claim  recently  put  forward  on  behalf  of 
the  chemists,  that  chemical  control  of  manufacturing  practice  has  given 
the  assurance  of  stability  to  thirteen  great  American  industries  which 
together  employ  eight  per  cent  of  all  the  wage  earners  engaged  in  manu- 
facturing in  the  United  States.  The  proof  of  this  statement  is  a monu- 
ment of  patriotism,  aere  perennius. 

It  must,  however,  be  stated  that  many  of  the  men  who  are  now 
trained  in  technical  science  for  the  uses  of  industry  come  into  action  with 
but  a narrow  vision,  the  result  of  over-specialization  and  an  apparent 
atrophy  of  the  power  of  effective  generalization.  My  point  can  perhaps 


10 


best  be  suggested  by  calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  proportionately 
few  of  the  thousands  of  men  who  now  for  almost  a generation  have  gone 
forth  from  our  colleges  into  the  world  with  a special  equipment  in  tech- 
nical science  have  attained  to  supreme  leadership  in  industry,  though 
many  of  them  are  employed  in  industry  in  subordinate  capacities.  In 
making  this  statement  I am  not  unmindful  of  the  conspicuous  exceptions, 
chiefly  in  the  ranks  of  the  engineers  and  metallurgists.  The  immediate 
advantage  of  a special  equipment  is  great  in  that  it  enables  a man  to 
arrive  at  economic  independence  earlier  than  his  untrained  fellows,  but 
I sometimes  question  whether  he  does  not  pay  too  high  a price  for  that 
desideratum,  and  whether  the  lack  of  a broader  training  in  such  men 
does  not  deprive  the  country  of  some  potential  leaders  in  industry.  We 
need  such  men  as  we  get,  they  do  their  assigned  work  honestly  and 
efficiently,  but  we  need  more  the  qualities  of  leadership  which  are  more 
generally  bred  by  what  is  called  cultural  education. 

It  must  be  recognized  also  that  the  influence  of  cultural  education  as 
we  have  had  it  has  not  yet  been  directly  favourable  to  industry,  though, 
as  I shall  attempt  to  show,  it  is  indirectly  favourable.  The  colleges  of  a 
generation  ago  still  shut  out  the  bright  light  of  social  evolution  from 
their  cloisters.  They  held  that  learning  was  valuable  in  itself  and  not 
necessarily  in  proportion  as  one  could  make  use  of  it.  Without  pausing 
to  discuss  the  fact  that  in  the  revolution  of  this  opinion  it  is  now  proposed 
that  the  learning  imparted  in  the  colleges  shall  consist  entirely  of  the 
vocationally  useful,  so  that  we  are  threatened  with  a new  educational 
opinion  fraught  with  as  much  exaggeration  as  was  the  old  (illustrating 
the  working  of  that  despotism  which  John  Stuart  Mill  feared  in  all  pro- 
posals for  general  State  education  as  a mere  contrivance  for  moulding 
people  to  be  exactly  like  one  another),  I pass  on  to  the  effect  of  the  old 
scholasticism  upon  the  youth  of  today,  which  I believe  is  turning  more 
and  more  of  our  most  desirable  young  men  towards  an  industrial  career. 
I venture  to  adopt  here  a lucid  statement  by  a modern  English  scholar, 
and  an  eminent  classical  scholar  at  that: 


11 


“It  is  against  preponderant  intellectualism  with  its  attendant  ego- 
tism that  the  present  generation  instinctively  reacts,  Amazingly  clever 
though  it  is,  it  has  felt  itself  somehow  sterile  in  motive  power.  It 
desires  to  feel  afresh,  even  that  it  may  think  anew.  It  asks  to  be 
born  again.  I do  not  know  whether  I am  singular  in  my  experience, 
but  what  has  most  impressed  me  in  the  young  is  their  extreme  old 
age,  their  hoary  wisdom.  The  youth  of  the  past  was  in  love  with 
ideas,  drunk  with  ideals,  avid  of  analysis : the  youth  of  today  sees 
life  steadily  and  sees  it  whole.  Above  all  it  craves  for  action  and 
only  for  such  thinking  as  is  immediately  translatable  into  action.” 

It  is  in  truth  action  which  the  youth  of  today  craves.  As  he  comes 
out  of  college,  where  can  he  find  action?  Not,  like  Gibbon,  in  past 
history,  but  in  making  history.  The  tradition  of  the  young  Southern 
man  has  always  suggested  politics  as  the  highest  expression  of  intelligent 
action.  From  the  day  when  every  man  who  could  wear  spurs  was  a 
soldier  until  we  enter  the  latest  world,  the  premier  place  in  a gentleman's 
ambition  has  been  supremacy  in  the  artistry  of  political  government,  but 
with  the  realization  of  democracy  we  have  seen  that  ambition  decay  in 
many  generous  breasts,  though,  due  to  our  peculiar  civilization,  it  has 
persisted  longest  with  the  Southern  man.  Under  democracy  the  politician 
exercises  only  the  forms  of  power.  He  may  grimace  his  own  emo- 
tions but  it  must  be  behind  a mask  of  convention,  like  a Greek  player. 
Time  was  when  the  productive  population  was  the  slave  of  the  political 
governor;  time  is  when  the  politician  has  become  the  slave  of  the  great 
god  Demos ; the  positions  are  reversed ; the  Industrial  Revolution  has 
shifted  the  roles  of  Caliban  and  Ariel.  Lacking  politics,  the  trend  of  the 
college  environment  has  been  toward  the  traditional  careers  in  the  so- 
called  learned  professions.  The  greatest  of  these,  measured  by  its  attrac- 
tion, the  law,  has  held  its  place  by  adapting  itself  to  changed  conditions : 
it  is  honoured  as  it  always  was,  but  the  lawyer  labours  now  in  the  service 
not  of  princes  and  of  governors,  but  to  guide  through  pathless  forests  the 
policy  of  incarnate  Industry.  It  is  coming  to  pass  that  a youth  looking 
out  on  life  sees  this  and  determines,  if  he  may  have  the  election,  he 
would  rather  be  the  man  who  does  things  than  the  man  who  advises  the 


12 


man  who  does  things,  and  that  is  the  election  for  industry  in  preference 
to  the  law. 

Such  men  are  welcome  in  industry  and  when  they  have  the  qualifi- 
cations for  success  may  count  on  such  success  as  is  attainable  in  industry 
today.  They  may  not  expect  a primrose  path.  The  apprenticeship  is 
long,  exacting  and  frugal,  and  in  the  present  state  of  public  opinion  with 
respect  to  corporate  enterprise,  diligence,  like  that  of  the  Good  Apprentice 
in  Hogarth’s  pictures,  is  not  rewarded  by  the  assurance  of  ultimate  af- 
fluence and  universal  respect.  If  they  want  to  make  a fortune  these  men 
had  better  turn  at  once  to  selling  merchandise.  They  may  not  expect 
always  to  live  and  to  work  in  the  comfortable  places  of  the  earth.  They 
must  associate  chiefly  with  men  with  whom  they  may  have  the  largest 
human  but  small  intellectual  sympathy.  As  they  rise  to  places  of  author- 
ity they  may  expect  not  only  to  have  to  do  their  duty  under  serious  public 
difficulty  but  to  have  their  most  sincere  motives  misunderstood  and  tra- 
duced. They  must  be  ready  always  to  take  the  consequences  of  saying  no. 
“Patriots,”  said  the  experienced  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  “are  easily  raised. 
I have  myself  raised  many  a one.  ’Tis  but  to  refuse  an  unreasonable 
request  and  up  springs  a patriot.”  They  must  bear  heavy  responsibility 
without  sympathy  and  realize  that  failure  is  a crime  for  which  good  in- 
tention is  seldom  an  acceptable  excuse.  They  will  find,  as  Cardinal  New- 
man did,  that  men  are  influenced  more  by  type  of  personality  than  by 
argument,  however  logical ; that  the  loyalty  of  General  Lee’s  army  was 
due  more  to  that  indefinable  personal  attribute  which  makes  a leader 
than  to  any  thing  intellectual:  that  Southern  men  can  be  led  any  where 
but  are  driven  only  by  superior  force.  They  will  find  that  much  of  their 
work  will  be  in  an  atmosphere  of  unreasoning  prejudice.  They  will 
encounter  much  meanness  in  human  nature  and  some  injustice:  but  if 
they  persist  and  hold  hard  to  their  ideals  and  do  succeed  they  will  know 
the  greatest  of  all  satisfactions,  the  consciousness  of  work  well  done. 
They  will  know,  too,  that  that  work  has  not  been  in  the  closet,  has  not 
been  theoretical  and  indirect  in  its  effect,  but  positive  and  part  of  the 
motive  power  of  the  age : and  so,  in  proportion  as  it  is  sincere  and  en- 


13 


lightened  and  progressive,  useful  and  noble  in  the  highest  sense.  They 
will  know  that  they  have  been  producers,  adding  to  the  economic  store 
of  humanity,  shaping  directly  the  welfare  of  thousands  of  their  fellow 
men  who  are  struggling  upward : that  they  have  been  leaders  of  society 
and  not  its  mere  servants  who  live  by  their  wits  upon  the  needs  or  the 
pleasures  of  the  workers.  They  may  not  achieve  the  laurel  crown  of 
fame  and  write  their  names  large  on  the  enduring  page  of  history,  but 
they  will  have  made  the  kind  of  friends  who  are  made  only  among 
those  with  whom  one  has  shared  tribulations,  dangers,  triumphs  and 
escapes.  They  will  have  few  illusions,  but  deep  convictions.  They  will 
have  given  the  world  more  than  they  have  taken  from  it,  but  they  will 
have  taken  and  held  some  thing  which  is  supreme  in  the  heart  of  man. 
When  Alexander  the  Great  was  asked  what  he  reserved  for  himself,  so 
liberal  were  his  gifts,  he  said:  “Hope,  that  is  the  true  inheritance  of 
all  that  resolve  upon  great  enterprises.” 

No  one  could  express  more  convincingly  the  sentiment  of  progress, 
and  progress  is  the  ideal  of  American  industry. 

The  place  of  Industry  in  modern  life  can,  then,  be  made  as  honourable 
as  it  is  beyond  all  peradventure  supremely  useful.  It  is  worth  the  best  a 
man  can  give  who  would  serve  his  age  and  leave  to  his  children  an  inspi- 
ration in  his  career. 


